Love Is An Unverified Rumor
by mykonosparadise
Summary: This is not another Unification story, it's a new Unification story. Bismarck brings Germany to live together with Prussia. They are not brothers. Prussia/Germany
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **_**Love Is An Unverified Rumor**_** (1/4)**

**Character(s): **Prussia, Germany, Bismarck, Wilhelm I

**Pairing:** Prussia/Germany

**Warnings:** teen!Germany (around 16 or 17), human names, historical figures, sex in later chapters

**Summary:**This is not _another_ Unification story, it's a new Unification story. Bismarck brings Germany to live together with Prussia. **They are not brothers****.**

**A/N:** **Hokay. This fic is a Christmas present for** **a friend of mine** **and it's now hers alone.** **I asked her if I could share the story and she gave her consent. Isn't she lovely? Happy Christmas, Theresa - enjoy your gift, darling**

**beta-ed by** **raecat from livejournal** . **Thank you a lot for your great help!**

**- Chapter One -**

Everything began with simple touches.

Gilbert would brush his hand, as though accidentally, or flash him a cocky grin and ruffle his hair, apparently to annoy him. But a kiss on the forehead would follow quickly, leaving him tongue-tied. Sometimes Gilbert would suddenly take his hand into his own and fumble at his wrist while they were sitting or talking.

Even the occasional banters did not bother him anymore. They seemed to fit perfectly into the collection of those other details he loved about Prussia. That warmth and the often confusing tenderness, the little words or some other completely irrelevant remark that caressed his whole being − he treasured all of it dearly.

They communicated in little gestures that no one noticed.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the spark that ignited his attraction to the older nation originated in exactly those touches that Gilbert initiated.

Then, little by little, the physical attraction started blending with love.

Moreover, once having begun to fall for Prussia, he was forced to endure terrible palpitations while in his presence. His chest would suddenly ache, warmth would spread through his body, quick as lightning, and finally, the dizzy feeling when Gilbert touched him in that subtle manner.

He was afraid that he might have confused it for signs of platonic closeness and friendship. But whatever it was, Ludwig was enjoying it.

It was true that in the beginning, the young nation had had second thoughts about Bismarck's suggestions, mostly influenced by his people. The Prime Minister tried more than once to entice his southern states into a confederation with the north, but these attempts failed due to opposition in the south. However, the man was cunning, and his plans proved to be cleverly thought out − Germany realized it only later, after the deal had been done and the war with France was already raging. Bismarck had purposely provoked hostilities, deciding it was the only way to bring the south into an alliance with the north. War with France threatened both equally.

Germany's first opinions about Prussia had not been very positive. But he modestly refrained from mentioning this minor detail.

He had been told that Prussia was a blood-thirsty lunatic, an unreasonable beast, set on dominating Europe. Even though the picture put into his head was atrocious, he knew it was second-hand.

He didn't hate Prussia, far from it. Both being Germans, they had certain affinities that connected them.

His_ real_ first impression of Prussia had been a breathless one.

Fair-skinned and tall, his Prussian blue uniform fit perfectly, scarlet eyes intense. He himself, far from being dull, lacked the vigor Prussia always seemed to possess. Ludwig found him quite attractive.

Of course, as a fellow Germanic nation, he had Prussia's history at his fingertips, but knowing _Gilbert_ was something he could not claim so easily. Still young, he didn't have any first-hand knowledge about war, only what he knew from the books, and he expected Prussia to guide and teach him now.

Their first encounter was memorable, at least for Ludwig. It was in Berlin, in the Stadtschloss* that would become the symbolic center of the German Empire.

The blond walked into the royal palace with determination, surrounded by his statesmen. Prussia was awaiting his arrival together with Bismarck and other officeholders. He entered the receiving room stately, wishing to present himself in the best light, not like a stiff-necked rebel everyone thought him to be.

Prussia stood there, prideful as always, wearing the uniform Germany secretly coveted and his smirk in place.

Even before he was to arrive at the palace − his new residence and home − he battled inwardly over his lack of self-confidence. He was aware of his youth and he was not outspoken either, but nevertheless, he was sure in his other skills and abilities, his sharp wit and readiness to serve the man who was about to become his emperor.

Discipline, training and nerve enhanced him − at least that was what he thought of himself. But it was loyalty,a trait so essential and important that he had the need to inform the older nation right away about his feelings of devotion and attachment, that drove his actions. Aware that unwavering commitment from a budding nation was highly commendable, and set on swearing allegiance to Prussia in front of everyone, he spoke, his voice firm, thoughts collected.

"Kingdom of Prussia, to you I pledge my allegiance and fidelity." He bowed respectfully, followed by the rest of his attendants. "I am at your eternal service."

Even before he would rise again, he saw Prussia undoing his white gloves and pulling them off slowly.

Gilbert, upon hearing the suave adolescent speaking so formally, stepped up to him, smiling.

"Oh, come here." He spoke officiously and closed the younger nation into an effusive embrace, flinging strong arms around Germany's waist. Caught unaware, Ludwig emitted a tiny sound of surprise that was effectively muffled by Gilbert's shoulder. Still shocked as Prussia continued to hold him, he remembered to react and brought his smaller hands up to awkwardly pat Gilbert on the back. In his bewildered state of mind, hopelessly uncomfortable, he squirmed inwardly before he made a weak attempt to separate himself, wishing that Prussia would release him before a flush suffused his face with color.

A moment before Gilbert would release him however, he briefly saw Bismarck, the designer of German unification, that willful, illustrious man standing behind the two of them, a glib smile on his face.

"I… am happy to live with you." He said as they separated and gave him a nervous smile.

"My pleasure." The loquacious nation answered, giving him that smirk again, "Oh, and henceforth you will call me Gilbert." The pleasant baritone all but whispered to him.

Later that day, surrounded by luxuries while attending a magnificent banquet, he played with the food in front of him absently, too nervous to eat properly. After successfully massacring a chocolate pudding in boredom, he sat still with his hands folded in his lap, quietly waiting for the dinner to finish.

It was then when Prussia discretely started throwing bread-pellets at him across the table. Ludwig pleaded him with his gaze to stop at first, offering a sheepish smile to the people who noticed, but later he could hardly contain his laughter. He felt honored as he understood that Gilbert was not doing it because he wanted to annoy him, it was merely an attempt to make him notice his presence.

And thus he began to understand who Gilbert really was - a high-spirited, garrulous nation, a fighter with a streak of adventurous restlessness. He was noted for being highly idealistic, very brave and infectiously optimistic and Germany loved and praised him especially for his conspicuous candor and bravery.

They appeared to be fundamentally different − Prussia always imposed himself while he remained taciturn by nature. He was pedant, Gilbert was pugnacious. Prussia was effusive and expressed his feelings freely whereas he himself tended to be courteous and aloof.

Perhaps exactly those characteristics led Ludwig to believe that he was toyed with. But he abandoned that idea as soon as he understood it contradicted Gilbert's candidness and that he would never beat around the bush cowardly.

Prussia was never the type to indulge in favoritism. Self-sufficient one may call him, a lone wolf who probably expected to remain as alone as he had always been. Solitude was the keynote of Gilbert's life. The truth was that he liked his dear Friedrich more than he imagined he would ever like a monarch, but now he realized he had a soft spot for the young nation and soon he could not hide it.

Other residents did not affect Prussia, who appeared to be greatly fond of and affectionate towards the young blond. He had a peculiar predilection reserved for him only, and as Ludwig finally grasped it, he understood that all those touches and words were not the empty shells they seemed to him, but concealed sincere feelings. Gilbert's attitude towards him was a loving one, accompanied by occasional pangs of lust.

Germany himself never took the initiation but he secretly enjoyed and craved Prussia's attention.

The platinum-blond would appear out of nowhere and surprise him, would start speaking in that familiar manner and sparks would fly, causing his heart to pound, his mind to scream at him to go away and the relief would come as soon as Prussia left him. But right when the man turned his back to him, he would find himself crying out inwardly at him to return, aching for his presence again, invisible hands clutching to prevent him from walking away. It was confusing, to say the least.

When Germany once asked him why he hated being referred to as 'Prussia' by him, Gilbert explained that it made him feel a distance which he wanted to avoid. Distance, Ludwig mused, was the last term to describe their relationship, for Prussia used every opportunity to be close.

Germany did not like most of the palace residents. The people were very fickle, with artificial smiles as well as personalities. He quickly understood that, in fact, exactly those people closest to you spread the most abominable rumors. The worst attacks on one's reputation were made by the residents upon each other. No sooner they saw you then they would embrace you but those same people would spread the most awful lies once you turn your back to them. Ludwig detested the shallowness and relied on Gilbert, whom he considered the most honest and real amongst all, as the one who was not playing games with him and whom he could trust.

And even though Prussia often joked about his inexperience, describing him as wet behind the ears, he deeply venerated him and secretly wished he were as self-confident as Gilbert was.

Although an older nation, Prussia had a habit of reacting by impulsiveness from time to time. But as rough and ready as he was, Germany didn't think of him as crude or unsophisticated − he never saw it in his presence, at least.

As a result of all of this, a strange kind of innocent liaison gradually developed between the two of them without Germany even being aware of it in the beginning.

A purely human phenomenon.

But they were not human, yet the most beautiful and sublime merit of humans struck them both. They fell in love. It reminded Germany of Greek deities − the gods and goddesses of Greek mythology that resembled extraordinarily powerful human beings. Those who experienced emotions such as jealousy, love, and grief, just like they did.

And being pleased as he was when left alone, Germany understood that having Prussia as a companion was not bad at all. In fact, he caught himself pining for the platinum-blonde's attention for no earthly reason.

Prussia would come to his bedroom very often as well.

Ludwig could not remember when it happened, but the inveterate visits to his room became their personal ivory tower, their escape from the daily difficulties.

Ironically enough, the same occurrence became their bone of contention since Prussia would always hover around and drop by more than once a day to pester him. As much as he liked it, it was wearing him out and the smothering affection was sometimes cloying him.

But only sometimes.

**To Be Continued…**

* "The **Stadtschloss** (German: _Berliner Stadtschloss_, in English the _Berlin City Palace_), was a royal palace in the centre of Berlin, capital of Germany."

**A/N: The first three chapters are finished (there are four chapters altogether). Should I post the next one?**

**Comments = Love**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **_**Love Is An Unverified Rumor**_** (2/4)**

**A/N: Thank you for the comments and support! I hope you'll enjoy in the second part :3**

**- Chapter Two -**

Germany learned with time, having had enough occasions to observe and study Prussia, that the older nation had a gift of the gab; the ability to coax even the most uptight people, him included, into most absurd conversations and situations.

He started to notice little details no one else seemed to register, and he cherished each one of them.

What Germany grew aware of was that he became a witness of a drastic but fascinating transformation taking place. The change from a proud lion into an affectionate kitten.

"Good morning!" A familiar voice greeted quite energetically.

Germany turned to give him a wary look, not even bothering to ask why he burst into his room at this hour.

"It's night." He said flatly.

"It's morning when I see _you_." Prussia beamed and came to stand in front of the blond. "I thought," He snatched the book Ludwig was holding and put it to the side carelessly, "We should go out to watch a sunrise." He gave him a grin and watched the signs of dissatisfaction appear on the blonde's features. It was obvious that he was not fond of the idea, or of Gilbert's haphazard ideas in general.

"_Now_?"

"Of course not. Next year." The older nation laughed at his question, not quite understanding what Germany had against a promenade.

"Gilbert," He started slowly, thinking about how to convey his disaccord, "In all earnestness, I cannot see any real necessity why I should comply to your wish. What kind of pleasure can you possibly gain from staring at the sun?" The mere idea sounded inane to him. "Frankly, I don't see the point of it."

"Does it need to have a point?" Gilbert countered leisurely. He smiled then. "Why don't we simply try it? Then you will see how little pleasures can make the life more enjoyable."

He hates to admit it, but Prussia was right.

Germany realized - he _felt _it - that exactly those 'little pleasures', as Gilbert called them, deepened their bond and made him exhilarated. What he was also sure of was that he never before had a more beautiful and enjoyable night. Or was it morning?

In the picturesque grounds of _Sanssouci_1 they wandered through the deserted, peaceful green of the parks and listened to the birds announce the beginning of a new day. Prussia, who brought along his flute, kept on making him snicker with the attempts to impress him, claiming to be the best flautist after his beloved Old Fritz.

And as they strolled over the lawn only an occasional high-pitched sound of the instrument would break the silence when Gilbert tried to continue a melody he had started hours ago. The music had a soothing effect on Ludwig and generally created a lovely atmosphere. He smiled, rarely in such a light-hearted mood, and watched how different shades of blue painted the sky, throwing glances at his companion from time to time while inwardly admiring his elegant posture whenever he brought the flute to his lips.

After they finally settled down, sprawled over the soft grass, Prussia made him sit between his spread legs and he didn't complain. Away from the crowded palace and inquisitive gazes, he slouched his shoulders and leaned back onto Gilbert's chest without any awkwardness or stiffness and marveled at the slow sunrise in front of them.

The sight was delightful. Suddenly there was a brightly-colored horizon as the soft curve of the sun slowly rose on the periphery; first rays of the teasing beams pierced the gloomy morning air, a pinkish flush spread around the glorious star. He sank more into the welcoming warmth of Gilbert's body behind and looked up at the incredibly blue skies above them before closing his eyes, perfectly content.

Behind him, propped on both arms, Prussia spoke through a deep sigh.

"You drive me mad…"

Germany didn't know what he meant. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know right now. A warm breeze came as though invited and he leaned into Gilbert's warm chest further, his body slack.

"You don't smile much though." The platinum-blond commented off-hand.

"You want me to smile?" Germany brought himself to ask, eyes still closed.

"I want you to be happy." Gilbert whispered into his ear.

A sincere little smile fluttered on Ludwig's lips, and even though he didn't say it out loud, he was happy.

Gilbert started humming some melodious tune, the vibrations of his baritone voice pleasantly lulling him into a happy state of somnolence.

* * *

He could only partially recall the first time he was kissed − by Prussia, who else − but his memory was rather foggy. It was the first time he drank quite a lot too.

Damned champagne, it was guilty for everything − one glass too many and he gradually let his hair down in front of people and laughed. He could not even remember what the occasion was, but as he wanted to leave, insisting on walking alone to his room in his fuddled state, Prussia seized him by the hand and dragged them away from the crowd, somewhere to a more secluded location. Caught in the spur of the moment, he did not object.

He remembered Gilbert whispering sweet nonsense to him, his brain too intoxicated with alcohol to register the words properly, body too languid to protest as the man kissed him, plundering his mouth and innocence. But one thing he did remember. A low drone Gilbert made while they kissed. It sounded funny at first, he almost would have laughed if his lips weren't too preoccupied with something else, but it started to arouse him later, and it was there where his memory ended. If he fell asleep or went unconscious he didn't know. He suspected Prussia ordered someone to bring him away or perhaps, which was even worse, he himself carried him to the bedroom.

He never mentioned it, too ashamed about what happened, wanting to forget the event as soon as possible and never repeat it again.

He was not entirely sure what exactly the man felt for him until Gilbert confessed to him one night.

* * *

Footsteps, loud in the silent bedroom, brought him out of slumber, giving him a palpitation. As the intruder accosted the large four poster bed he sat up, blinking to clear his vision, body turned towards the source of the noises. Even though the heavy panels of drape provided intimacy and protection to some extent, it had its disadvantages − he did not have even the slightest possibility to discern the other person's shape, let alone their face. There was only a motionless, dark silhouette.

He strained his blue eyes in the darkness but nothing happened for few moments. Mouse-quiet, Ludwig did not move, nor did he find a necessitous reason to do so, cynical of the man's motives.

When the stranger finally moved, the drapery was roughly drawn aside, revealing the person's identity, and Ludwig almost winced at the sudden impetus but managed to hold himself together as not to show that Gilbert just scared the living daylights out of him.

"Ha!" The platinum-blond exulted, "I knew you weren't sleeping." The drapery was pushed further to provide more space for Gilbert.

The man wore his night attire, a double-breasted nightgown, quilted Berlin-blue satin, even a matching waistcoat − it nearly made him look down at his own clothes, a simple, white nightgown innocent of any fancy details.

He let the thought slip for a second, Gilbert attracted his attention again anyway as he sat onto the canopy bed and sank into the feather-mattress, surrounded by layers of blankets, silken sheets and the embroidered quilt.

"Shockingly comfy these beds…" he added rather irrelevantly. His right hand traveled over the quilt, palm tracing the delicate texture until it got suspiciously near to where Ludwig's thigh was, hidden by the covers.

"I don't want to be rude but what are you doing here?" Ludwig ignored his words, "Midnight passed long ago." Truthfully, he had no idea what time it was. But it didn't even matter − he came to his room, to his _bed_, uninvited. Reason enough to get angry, was it not?

The older nation leaned towards him, supported by the same right hand still lingering beside his leg, but Ludwig refused to budge or let himself be intimidated. To daunt Ludwig was the last thing the Prussian had in mind however.

"You don't want me here?" Gilbert put on a pathetic pout, playing on being hurt. His breath had a strong odor of wine, but that alone was not enough to pinpoint him as drunk. Gilbert's fingers playing with the frills on the front of his nightgown made him question his decision for a second though.

He ignored the ridiculous pout and slapped his hand away.

"No."

Gilbert retreated with a skeptical look, giving him some breathing space again.

"Little brat…" The platinum-blond mumbled almost inaudibly, "Thousands would kill to be in your place."

Ludwig restrained himself from rolling his eyes and lay down again, dragging the covers up protectively, all the way to his chin, satisfying himself with the thought that the man was not right in the head.

"I bet you came to sleep here." He mumbled from under the quilt.

"Me?" Gilbert pointed at his chest for emphasis, "_No_… It didn't even cross my mind."

"You're a terrible liar, Gilbert." If the platinum-blond was lying, that grin never did.

And while he waited patiently for Gilbert to either say something or go out of the room, the man remained sitting there, taking some strange pleasure in simply observing him.

"Do you, by any chance, know about that fairy-tale called _Sleeping Beauty_?"

Ludwig ground his teeth together in annoyance. Was the idiot serious or was he joking with him?

"Yes." He gritted out with obvious disaffection, "And?"

Gilbert grinned and returned to his earlier position as he bent down, now leaning on his elbows.

"Nothing. It only made me think of you for a short second." The amusement in his voice was not to overhear, yet his tone lowered noticeably, causing the blonde's heart to skip a beat.

Despite the obvious spark of attraction that flew between them, he remained true to his earlier intentions, quickly retaliating.

"Have you ever heard about the fairy-tale called _Beauty and the Beast_, Gilbert?"

Said man did not offer an answer right away, but the corners of his lips quirked up in a smirk.

"Of course. What's with it?" And there was the husky tone again. Had the man no shame at all?

"Nothing. You simply reminded me of it." The blond said with burlesque and the older one laughed.

He began to shake with laughter, his head fell onto one of the pillows and the huge cushion muffled his strident voice. Ludwig did not even find it that funny, but a small smile blossomed on his lips anyway as he felt a strong feeling of joy swelling in his chest upon realizing that he alone made Gilbert laugh. So intense was the feeling, the older nation's laughter sounded almost euphonic to his own ears.

"Oh _please_… Let me stay here for tonight. I feel lonely in my room." Gilbert said after the laughing ceased. This time, his words sounded sincere and Ludwig could only agree − indeed, it was true that these huge rooms and chambers made one feel isolated most of the time. And it was not like he hated him or detested his presence, on the contrary.

"At least take your boots off." He muttered reluctantly from under the covers where he hid himself again. Who on earth wore their Hessians to bed?

"Ah, right." Gilbert fumbled around for few seconds until the black boots hit the parquet floor and the Prussian got under the warm covers too, stealing his precious free space and _snuggled_ closer, not missing his chance to invade Ludwig's personal bubble.

Meanwhile, the younger blond thought the heart would jump out of his chest − he was certain the other would hear it. Scratch that, a little louder and the whole palace would hear it.

Before he knew what was about to happen, or had the chance to do something against it for that matter, Gilbert leaned in and gave him a kiss. It was quick, but right on the lips, one could not deny.

Ludwig didn't expect more nor did Gilbert go any further.

He simply found a comfortable place on the pillow, sighed through his nose once and threw one arm over the blonde's waist.

"You're my Elysium…" He murmured out nonchalantly and tightened his hold, "'mm love you…" Few other indecipherable words were mumbled out before Gilbert fell asleep, leaving Ludwig to fight against the wild army of butterflies in his stomach.

Gilbert sure could fall asleep easily − another thing Ludwig concluded for himself − and the blond wondered if he would wake up in case he tried to remove his arm during the night. It was impossible to sleep like this.

But not yet.

Besides, he knew he wouldn't stay like this for a long time since Gilbert had the habit of conquering the whole bed. Just like he loved conquering everything else.

Gilbert's words from earlier made his chest ache in the most delightful way, the strange floating sensation made him slightly dizzy. As he relished in the memory of the words and that kiss again, the arm on his body didn't feel that bad anymore.

At last then he knew that a certain winged boy made him subdue his chaste heart to the nation whose even breathing now slowly lulled him into sleep.

_**To Be Continued…**_

*** "**_**Sanssouci**_** is the name of the former summer palace of Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, in Potsdam, near Berlin. It is often counted among the German rivals of Versailles."**

**** Cupid - the Roman god of love**

**A/N: LOTS OF SMUT IN THE NEXT ONE! :D** *cough*perhaps a bit of angst D: but nothing serious, I promise*cough*

**Comments are appreciated  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **_**Love Is An Unverified Rumor**_** (3/4)**

**Warning for this chapter:** France, long chapter, 6 pages of smut. nuff said.

**- Chapter Three -**

It was on that famous, cold January morning of 1871 when Wilhelm was crowned Emperor of Germany in France, and everything was very formal, solemn and stately. It completely overwhelmed the young blond who tried to keep his head and remain unruffled as hundreds of eyes were upon him in the famous Hall of Mirrors.

Apparently, he did his job well.

Watching the scene in front of him while Wilhelm was being crowned, he stood straight, dressed to match Versailles itself and please the eye − magnificent and pompous.

His own coronation took place later, in a church.

Next to him, in that uniform of his, Prussia leaned in slightly in an attempt to encourage him.

"You are about to be crowned, formally proclaimed an Empire, married to me, and you look as calm as a millpond."

"I'm glad I appear so." Ludwig gave him a quick side-glance, keeping his movements at a minimum. Sensing his tenseness, Gilbert decided to intervene again.

"Isn't it cold?" He started babbling, "If there's anything I hate, then it's winter. Feel my hands. They are always like that except in summer." He closed his fingers around Ludwig's limp hand and gave him a squeeze, but coldness was the last thing the blond felt in that moment. It was warm. So incredibly warm, he thought he was melting under the heavy layers of fabric.

The strong tones of the organ brought him out of the daze forcefully, reminding him of his duty.

Only minutes later, as he stood still before the priest and the loud _forte_ changed into _al niente_, the powerful tone of the instrument kept echoing in his ears like a tinnitus. The crown put on his head made him inwardly sink under the weight of great responsibilities and expectations placed upon him.

And while the rest of the rites turned out to be even more arduous for Ludwig, it only meant more fatigue for Gilbert who was bored to death. Until Bismarck showed up and took the place beside him, that is.

"Do you remember when I told you that Germany will adore you?" The Prime Minister was not even looking at him. Gilbert wondered what he was driving at.

"Well, I adore Germany too."

"He is quite good-looking, don't you think?" The Iron Chancellor***** suggested after a long pause.

"Indeed." Gilbert answered dryly.

"An apple right for plucking." Bismarck's pun made him visibly sneer. The Chancellor's shameful suggestion gave him a sick and squeamish feeling all of a sudden.

"I am not obliged to listen to your advice. And besides," He added, not leaving the man much space for opposition."I am still displeased that you denied me a triumphal march into Vienna, Bismarck."

The prime minister merely smiled at that.

"If you mistrust my good intents you judge amiss, I'm afraid. Modesty and generosity are the keys to success. Humiliating Austria would only cause the creation of an implacable rival." ******

Prussia gave a noncommittal grunt in return, not making clear if he agreed or disapproved of Bismarck's answer.

* * *

The rest of the day proved to be even more tedious than the coronation itself.

A banquet was to be held and Germany found a distant corner where he stood with a glass of champagne in his hand, eagerly wanting to camouflage himself and blend into the rich environment while he quietly waited for yet another event to begin.

Prussia was nowhere to be found and he decided to observe the others in the meantime in order to pass the time.

Across him stood France with a glass of fine red wine in his hand. The older nation sent him lecherous looks more than once that day, even winked a couple of times, but he knew better than to make fuss over France's coquetry. It was nothing scandalous, considering Francis displayed the same behavior in front of numerous people, be it humans or nations, attendants or statesmen, men or women. Germany was no expert in subtle language, but even he could clearly see that the man had a glass too many.

He could hardly blame him.

Ludwig felt immensely sorry for Francis for some obscure reason and he longed to say something or simply pat him on the shoulder comfortingly, but, naturally, decided against it.

As if on cue France glanced over at him and immediately noticed his gaze. With a somewhat suspicious-looking smile, he started walking towards his direction and Ludwig cursed inwardly, knowing France would ensnare him into some obnoxious conversation.

"_Bonjour, Allemagne_." France greeted as he came up to him, "_Qu'est-ce qu'il y a_?" *******

Ludwig did not even have time to answer.

"And? Has _la Prusse_ done his duty yet?" One arm now slung around his shoulders, Francis leaned in improperly close to his face. He spoke in a deep, slightly hoarse yet pleasant voice, though his words were everything else but pleasant.

"I beg your pardon?" Ludwig failed to create some space between them as France kept inching nearer.

"Has our dear Prussia taken your virginity yet?" He whispered out this time with an amused chuckle. Forthright and indecent − not what Germany expected from France.

Stunned by the words, he tried to wriggle out of France's clutch, but the man spoke again.

"If not, I would like to do so myself…" The Frenchman said without so much as a blush, "I trust my bluntness does not offend you, _Allemagne_."

It was the last straw for Germany. The table has been set and he used it as an excuse to separate himself, successfully this time, and so left the blond nation without a word. He hurried to take his seat and forget about France's demeaning offers, not aware that it was only a foreshadowing of what was about to happen that night.

* * *

Ludwig tapped on his half-finished glass lightly, trapped in boredom once again and looked around the spacious room.

This time, France seemed to be busy glaring daggers at Prussia in antipathy.

Prussia, on the other side, was talking a great deal. The dinner appeared to be a perfect opportunity for the display of his unrivalled anecdotal powers and inexhaustible mother-wit. Germany didn't know if he really liked that volubility of his, but since he was not directly involved in the conversation he leisurely ignored it.

The dessert in front of him remained uneaten and he never uttered a single word during the whole meal, now inattentively observing the volutes of tobacco smoke as they rotated softly above the long table. People were chatting, lively discussions were led.

At one point, a wave of whispers started to flutter around the room. He felt people's eyes on himself. Certainly, some kind of rumor was being spread. It was not that he wasn't used to residents of the palace in Berlin prattling about him, but in the present circumstances, and while surrounded by Frenchmen, he could only shift in his chair uncomfortably. Even Gilbert wasn't as loud as before.

He looked in his direction just in time to see how Bismarck tapped on Gilbert's shoulder discretely and whispered something to him. He was not able to understand, they were far away, but what he could do is observe them closely.

The conversation was short. Gilbert's interlocutor returned to feasting, as good-humored as ever. He noted how the platinum-blond put down knife and fork and stayed as though paralyzed for few seconds, scarlet eyes unmoving, gaze fixated at some random point on the table. Anguish was written all over his pale features − an unusual contrast to all expressions Ludwig had seen that day on his face. When he finally lifted his gaze, the blond knew who he would search for.

Scarlet met cerulean blue.

Prussia wavered for a moment or two, then sent him a smile.

Ludwig didn't recognize a single thing from it. It was only a small, sad smile, and Ludwig knew right there and then, whatever worries assailed Gilbert he was a part of it too.

The platinum-blond finished his meal in silence and the more unusually he behaved, the more Ludwig's fear intensified. He did not even notice one of Wilhelm's ministers standing beside him.

"How do you feel about the approaching unification?"

The voice startled him slightly and he looked up at the man, confused.

"Approaching?"

The man gave a curt nod and the corners of his mouth rose in a smile.

"Can you throw some light onto the matter of subject, please?" The blond queried. There was something quite ominous about that smile.

"Oh… of course. As you will no doubt have heard, the unification is not fulfilled until the final physical act has taken place."

Ludwig felt a pang of terror.

"I…" He felt light-headed all of a sudden, "I was not… aware—"

His informant smiled ignorantly once again.

"Well, in any case, a group of chosen people will be sent to see to it." He bowed a little, "Good night."

Before he could reply the minister was gone.

In the ensuing situation, he could only sit there and remain unflagging from the outside, taking it with his usual poise. Inwardly, however, he was alarmed. His stomach tightened desperately, and he felt nausea at the back of his throat.

The whole thing has been planned from the outset, only he was not aware. Why didn't anyone give him a book about this before? Why didn't anyone bother to _tell_ him about this?

There was a wide range of themes he knew about a bit more than the people thought he knew. But he was the kind of person who thought all romantic books and novels connected to this topic were trashy and never consulted them. Now he wished he had.

There were suddenly too many people. Too many faces and gazes on him, too much information and celebration.

He was not ready for this.

He had a faint idea about that _thing_ called defloration − a word that almost made him gag − and it unleashed a cascade of horrors. Pain, shame, discomfort, humiliation. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had a rather stereotyped image about the 'consummation of marriage' and it unsettled him, gave him a nasty buzzing in the head on top of everything.

It was not only his thoughts and concepts about this issue that bothered him. Ludwig wasn't particularly willing to lose his virginity − another hideous word − mentally unprepared, and especially not in front of their audience.

The emotions were clashing.

Bismarck first recommended his scheme about the unification to Wilhelm, and Ludwig knew that nobody was more deeply interested in it or more fervently anxious for its success than the emperor. And since Wilhelm was the one who insisted on this, he could not bring himself to protest simply because not following the Kaiser's advices would be extremely unwise. Pleasing his first emperor was of crucial importance to him, but the whole event perplexed him at the same time.

He was set under pressure he could not cope with.

Ludwig called for one of the waiters who were racing about with heavy trays through the palace dining-rooms to refill his glass and drank the alcohol eagerly, trying to remain calm.

* * *

Hours after the dinner, Prussia found himself restlessly pacing the halls of Versailles, not far away from the room where he suspected Germany already waited for him, his thoughts probably a mess as well.

Suddenly, he felt tired and miserable.

He still had to go to the king for 'a talk', and he was not looking forward to it either. Gilbert did not want to jeopardize the relationship he had with the blond or betray his trust. This could turn out to be a problem.

"Gilbert? What a surprise meeting you here."

He turned to the source of the voice and there stood France. The last one he wanted to see now. He did not miss Francis' odd behavior today.

Gilbert purposely avoided acknowledging him.

"You look more happy than usual, my dear Gilbert. I think I have never seen you in such a light-hearted mood before." The involuntary host smiled at him malevolently. The two of them were at loggerhead ever since Antonio offered his throne to Gilbert, but Francis was being downright rude right now. There was something not quite natural in his demeanor. ********

"Uncanny." Gilbert offered flatly.

"It crossed my mind − maybe little _Allemagne_ is the reason of your… _bonheur, oui_?"********* It was funny how the Frenchman expressed his bitter revolt against him in such a sweet fashion.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Perhaps kicking your sorry ass gave me the pleasure. You will never know." He retaliated with matching passion.

Francis' half-smile did not reach his blue eyes.

"Well I think you have a very important task to do, _non_?"

"I had not the vaguest inkling you care so much." The platinum-blond said with tacit hostility. There was no reason to lose his temper now.

Francis gave a vague shrug.

"Either way, someone is going to break a pure German heart tonight…"

Before Gilbert could find his words, Francis carried on.

"And I know who won't—I mean, good luck, _mon ami_." The faked slip of tongue only contributed to the German's pent up anger. He knew Francis' hospitality has been a sham all along.

The climactic argument led to the outcome which seemed inevitable − a complete rupture of friendship between the two powerful nations.

* * *

"Pray be seated, Prussia." Wilhelm said, courteously waving him into a leather armchair near his desk. The nation offered a polite smile but remained standing.

He waited for further instructions in silence and observed the king. He was a mild old gentleman with fat chops connected to his white moustache that Gilbert always found interesting and he actually liked him. Now more than ever he hoped the man would prove himself as good. Never before was he afraid to receive an order. He feared that sexual intercourse with Ludwig would not be the summation of their joy and love but the price the blond must pay for the unification.

"Your duty tonight will be to physically unify with Germany." Straight to the point, no chit-chat.

He had already braced himself for the worst. Still, the words shook him to the core.

"Are you serious?"

"I cannot think of a reason why I would joke about it." Wilhelm's voice was perfectly calm.

But the tension in the room was palpable.

"No." It was a flat-out refusal.

"Prussia," The king began patiently, "that was not a plea, I'm afraid."

"Your Majesty," The stubborn nation answered, "You are asking me to do something impossible."

"Why, dear Prussia, I thought you loved the boy?"

"Quite so." He assured wholeheartedly, "As a matter of fact, there is nothing else I would rather do than unite with Germany — in every aspect of its meaning —_ if_ I thought I had the moral right to do so."

"What makes you think you do not?"

"It would make me appear as a child molester." Prussia said, being baulked by the thought. His honor was at stake, how couldn't they see.

"Germany is not a child." Bismarck, who was there all along, butted in and Gilbert gave him a dangerous glare. Right then he understood, the whole affair was being orchestrated primarily by him, Wilhelm was merely following Bismarck's advice.

"A rapist then." He forced out through his teeth.

"As far as we could observe, the boy is quite in love with you. Perhaps you were not cognizant of it."

"That may be so, but still—"

"My dear Prussia," the king interrupted, suddenly veering, "You know I do not like to harp on the subject, so let me tell you − this is a public display of unity, not a dalliance of love."

Thus, the conversation was over.

* * *

Twelve people, one blond nation, a cold fireplace, silence.

This greeted Prussia as he stepped into the bedroom, feeling guilt for having postponed his arrival, leaving Ludwig in a state of hazy confusion for too long.

"Gilbert?" Germany asked tentatively, wishing he could speak to the man he was addressing only. The presence of other people disturbed him immensely.

The Prussian spared him a quick glance where he sat on the bed and sighed, deeply and audibly, before he shrugged the coat off his shoulders. He merely had the intention of making himself more comfortable in mind, but the gesture caused Ludwig's heart to miss a beat in suspense, interpreting it as a bad omen. On tenterhooks, he swallowed a lump in his throat as he watched two maids step up to Prussia and take the garment obediently.

"Gilbert?" He tried again, but in vain.

Said man stood as though glued to the place for quite some time, staring at the parquet floor pensively. It was hard to tell whether he really was in deep thoughts or simply standing there for the sake of it.

After a while, Gilbert looked about, scanning the room, trying to recognize each one of the people present as well as take in their surroundings.

"Will you not speak to me?" Ludwig inquired, overwhelmed with urgency and anxiety.

They shared a look.

"I apologize. Ludwig." Gilbert's voice had an uncharacteristic soft tone, undoubtedly surprising most of the occupants.

As he walked past them to get closer to the large bed, the people bowed deeply, uncovering respectfully to their nation. They appeared distant and uninterested on the first look, but both knew they had eyes like a hawk.

Scarlet eyes fell onto a gilded tablet on the night-table, stowed with various objects, most of them they didn't need.

They did need one particular however.

He reached for a bottle of oil before he pulled the surrounding bed curtains close, providing some intimacy and shielding them from curious gazes. Following Germany's suit, he sank down into the feather-bed and mused for few quiet moments.

"What happened? Were you with the Kaiser? What did his Majesty want?" The younger blond spoke in a whisper.

"Question after question…" The platinum-blond shook his head in false reprove, smile adorning his pale features. He lay down onto the mattress.

"Well?" The blonde urged again after a minute of silence during which Gilbert has folded the hands on his chest, now looking at the canopy above them absently.

Ludwig grew impatient. The lack of response unnerved him.

"I was with the Kaiser indeed. And I was given an order − one that applies to both of us." He patted the spot beside him and Ludwig mimicked, lying down next to the older nation in a familiar manner, their shoulders touching.

"How so?"

Gilbert gave a short, humorless laugh.

"We are supposed to present 'public unity'. Quite literally as it seems." No further explanations were given, for Gilbert knew that the words were crystal clear to the blond.

He rolled onto his side all of a sudden and lifted himself, hovering over the younger male. Ludwig observed him quietly for some time, but the panic in the blue eyes could not be concealed.

"Is this necessary?" The blond whispered out. Suspecting that he sounded rather frightened than malcontent, he tried to appeal on Gilbert's own feelings of pride and prerogative. "We will allow them to order us around in this way? We will blindly follow the orders irrespective of our own wishes?"

"Bismarck is one smug bastard, but he knows what he's saying." Gilbert cupped Ludwig's cheek, thumb sliding over the ivory skin, marveling the softness quietly. "Be that as it may, you must know that I would never—"

He interrupted himself abruptly, his movements ceased at the same time.

"—I won't force you to something you do not want, Ludwig."

Probably more effective than anything else that could have helped, after all the pressure and anxieties the unification brought, the words worked like a solace, lifting a great weight off his chest. Eyes closing on their own, he leaned into the cold palm in gratefulness. The physical and mental relief coupled with Gilbert's own joy at Ludwig's display of affection coursed through them in a warm rush as if their bodies were fused.

Few moments passed before one of them broke the silence.

"However…"

Gilbert's warm breath ghosted over Ludwig's chin and lips, startling him as he did not notice the other man leaning in so closely. Fortunately, the alcohol from earlier dulled his reflexes and had him lightly dazed, otherwise this little incident would have ended in an ugly clash of heads.

"… I need you to help me. We do have to deceive our little audience here." He nicked to the side, referring to the attendants and officers standing around their bed, patiently waiting for an affirmation that the 'unification' has been performed. Germany would have glanced to where the nation above him was pointing, but he was too affected by the warm breath that caused his heart to race and the sudden intimacy his chest to hurt from the swoop of excitement. Their lips were almost touching.

"What am I to do?" Ludwig asked in curiosity and mild confusion.

"Kiss me."

That was all?

Germany blinked at the simplicity of it. Though, somehow he doubted a kiss would be everything required from him.

Nevertheless, he lifted his hands off the mattress, wound them up around Gilbert's neck and licked his lips briefly before closing the short distance.

And there was it again — that deep sound of content in the back of Gilbert's throat as they kissed. It pleased Ludwig. It gave him the feeling of dominance he knew was justified — only he was able to affect this powerful nation in such a way.

Tongues met, exploring curiously, playing in some strange kind of slow passion.

The younger blond dared as much as to tangle his fingers into the platinum strands, massaging the man's scalp while his tongue did the same to Gilbert's own, but with ebullient devotion now.

That same sound escaped him again, causing Ludwig to smile into their kiss in response. In a couple of skillful movements, Gilbert succeeded in spreading the blonde's legs and settling between them comfortably, weight on his knees. It provided more balance than before and made it possible for him to move his hands as he pleased. A fact he generously exploited as he let the hands wander freely over Ludwig's sides in a tantalizing pace, manhood twitching upon realization that only a thin layer of fabric was separating him from the warm skin beneath.

The blonde's fingers returned to his neck and the grip increased, made their kiss even deeper while Gilbert's hands continued to explore, petting, sliding up to skim over Ludwig's ribs and then down again teasingly. Until a particular action brought Ludwig out of his daze, that is.

Gilbert had the courage to go lower, fingers in hold of the hem of his sleepwear, twisted in the soft cloth, pulling it up in order to expose the rest of his body, thighs being already naked due to their pose. He broke the kiss and released his neck, set out to remove Gilbert's hands from his hips and away from his nightgown, but the man shushed him before he even uttered anything, leaving him with his mouth open and an inquisitive gaze.

"From now on, the only sound you're allowed to make is a moan. Do you understand?" Gilbert whispered into his ear.

Ludwig _didn't_ understand.

The older one didn't seem to _care_. He gently bit the blonde's the ear, giving it an experimental lick, curious to see Ludwig's reaction. He didn't seem to be very vocal, which he actually didn't mind, but it could be a disadvantage in this case, unless Ludwig was a good actor. Something Gilbert highly doubted.

The teen's thoughts still lingered on his words though.

"Wait…" He said in the lowest whisper, turning his head to meet Gilbert's gaze, "What do you mean?"

The older male sighed through his nose, then nudged Ludwig's cheek lightly, making him re-turn his head before locking their lips in another kiss. Short and more aggressive this time, biting the blonde's lower lip and giving it a tug with his teeth.

"I mean that we are currently trying to make fools out of those fools outside by making them think we're making love. Show more effort, brat." He bit the soft lip again, seemingly in a threat, but Ludwig knew he was only pretending.

He scoffed after they broke apart, his dissatisfaction thinly veiled.

Gilbert gave a low groan and lifted himself, taking off his shirt in the process.

"There." He mouthed and threw it aside. Pale skin glowed under dim light of the candles that managed to make its way through the little gaps of the drapes. Ludwig always knew Prussia was in an excellent shape, even under all those uniforms. Blue eyes traveled down the naked chest in interest, stopping on the scars, then going lower, over the taut and strong abdomen and pelvis before settling on the platinum-blonde's breeches.

"Oh, for heaven's sake…" Gilbert huffed out and unbuttoned them, making no show out of it as he pushed the beige cloth down and got rid of the trousers entirely in few quick movements.

With his legs still spread so that the nightgown barely managed to hide his most intimate parts, Ludwig watched the scarlet-eyed man return to his previous place, on his knees again, with a full-developed erection and a lascivious smirk tugging at his lips.

It was no five meters, by all means, but Gilbert was well endowed.

And what a magnificent and gorgeous manhood it was, almost—

Ludwig shut his eyes close in an attempt to stop the current train of thoughts. It was no good, he was already half-hard and a little tent was starting to grow beneath his nightgown.

A hand settled on his thigh, bringing him back to reality. He forgot − it was his turn now.

"Lift your hips a little."

Why, Ludwig didn't have a clue. But he did as was ordered to him.

Gilbert helped and lifted him further with his strong hands. With a startle, Ludwig realized that the man freed him completely from the nightgown in two energetic movements, leaving his body nude, and he instantly closed his legs. The older nation smirked at this.

"Sorry to be blunt, but you'll have to spread your legs for me." He tapped the blonde's knee lightly in emphasis.

Ludwig was reluctant at first, but opened up again after few seconds, his chest heaving in pleasant anticipation. His lip almost trembled and he bit the tender flesh, feeling ashamed.

Gilbert reached for that bottle and poured a small amount of the oil into his palm clumsily, though not out of nervousness. He was careless by nature.

"Wait—be careful. It'll stain the sheets." Ludwig warned as few dews of lubricant dropped from his hand.

"Oh, the horror." Gilbert dismissed the protests and poured some more out. Ludwig immediately squirmed at the sight and the platinum-blond looked up at him.

"Stop being so fussy."

He might be concerned with trivial details, but he was supposed to sleep in this bed tonight, his objections were only justified.

Gilbert brought his thoughts to a halt again as his fingers traced the warm skin of his inner thigh slowly, making him gasp inaudibly.

"Don't be afraid." He whispered and planted a small kiss on his knee. His other hand closed around Ludwig's half-hard member, slicking it with the oil, stroking him slowly.

The blonde tensed up and closed his eyes but gave a sigh of pleasure nevertheless.

Gilbert slickened his own manhood in the meantime.

"Ludwig." He called as he admired the nude adolescent below him. He drew his body nearer, the blonde's thighs were propped by his own now.

The blonde heard him and looked up, blue half-lidded eyes filled with lust.

"_Touch me_." Gilbert asked huskily and guided the blonde's hand towards his own erection.

Aroused, with a mix of genuine curiosity, Ludwig gingerly took Prussia's member into his hand, feeling him pulsing under his grip. It was not that he was diffident; he simply thought he lacked the knowledge and skill to return the pleasure.

Ridiculously helpless in these matters, he mimicked Gilbert's own rhythm and stroked back. It pleased him to see that the man seemed to enjoy his touches and movements; he could hear how their sighs rose steadily. Gilbert's grip increased cautiously and he had to stop for a moment, too overwhelmed by the sensation; his hand slid to the base of Gilbert's member where he felt the fuzz of white, fine hairs and his fingers lingered there for few moments.

Then everything stopped abruptly.

Gilbert released him and removed the blonde's hand from his own erection, bringing Ludwig out of daze. His thighs were spread further by the platinum-blond who lay down, pressing their naked bodies together, eager to show the younger one that sexual satisfaction could be reached through means other than penetration.

As their members came in contact for the first time Germany jerked his hips up − a reflexive action in response to the intense sensation − and gave a wanton moan.

That was good. Probably the first sound the people outside heard until now.

Gilbert rolled his hips experimentally again, but could not bring the blonde to repeat it. He did not fail in pleasuring him though − Ludwig reciprocated zealously, chest heaving again in excitement.

Realizing that he won't let out another moan anytime soon, Gilbert stopped for a moment and enjoyed in the proximity, reveling in the feel of skin against skin, leaned heavily on his forearms flat on the mattress and tucked under Ludwig's shoulders.

He closed his eyes briefly and moved against the body underneath him in a quick sliding motion, hard and throbbing, releasing a low purr when Ludwig's hips moved in sync with his own. The younger blonde pulled him down and claimed his lips, coaxing him into a mute duet.

Being still inexperienced in this, the blond tried to do his best to emulate the other's movements and follow his rhythm. When they broke apart he spoke in the same lush voice the older nation was using before.

"_Gilbert… more_…"

Grinding against each other enthusiastically, both of them panting now, they built up a steady pace. And while Ludwig was clutching desperately at his back as their hard erections and bodies rubbed against each other, Prussia caressed the blonde's body passionately, moving smoothly over the glistening skin, in quest for erogenous zones. Much to his own surprise, he was successful. As his fingers carelessly slid over his crotch, over the soft and warm skin that was now slick with oil, his pressure increased and created an unplanned effect. With a tender moan Ludwig melted against his own body and spread his legs even more, if possible, to give him better access. Gilbert brought his hand into a better position and massaged along the groin line with his thumb. The results were tremendous.

Getting Ludwig to make such exquisite noises was quite a coup.

He raised himself, never stopping with the energetic movements, eager to observe and manipulate the newly-acquired information. Applying more pressure as he traced the erogenous zone, he increased his pace at the same time and watched Ludwig who arched just a little bit, eyes closed, features twisted in pleasure, pants coming erratically through rosy lips.

Infatuated by the sight, his lust enhanced so rapidly he thought he would lose control any moment.

His member pulsed dangerously, tempted by the erotic image, patience almost non-existent.

How _much_ he needed to fuck someone right now.

For few short moments he struggled with the desire to break his promise and go all the way.

He was sorry to admit that the better man won.

He would only bungle everything badly, it was not worth it. He did not want the sighs of pleasure to turn into moans of pain and this thought helped him get a grip of himself. Lowering his body down again, he embraced Ludwig tightly. With his mouth parted, he traced the blonde's jaw line with his lips before changing his course towards the neck. There he sunk his teeth mercilessly into the delicate skin without any warning. Not an innocent nip or playful bite. His canines pierced through the skin, drawing blood. Although a tiny part of him that was possessive patted him on the shoulder proudly, his intention was not to mark or claim the blonde, especially not in such a barbaric manner, but to intentionally trick the people outside.

Not long after a cry of pain tore from Ludwig's throat, a number of people left the bedroom.

With watery eyes, Ludwig muttered a little 'ow' and gave him a look, mix of bewilderment and hurt. Gilbert showered the abused place with pecks.

"Sorry. I had to."

With much gusto he went on with his movements, grinding down until both were panting anew, lost in passion. The people outside stopped to matter after some time and they were alone. Members were rubbing, skin slick with sweat and oil, breaths mingling, until Gilbert bent down to connect their lips again. After Ludwig's brain finally started to register things properly he realized that Prussia is not simply kissing him but making love to his mouth.

The younger nation wound his arms around his neck again, not staying there, traveling lower, over his strong defined back and enjoyed in Gilbert's powerful body. His fingers dug into the platinum-blonde's shoulders, damp with sweat, drawing lines with his nails as he felt a nice, warm sensation forming in his southern regions, the beginnings of an orgasm. He left marks where he could, then settled at the small of Gilbert's back, even lower, urging him to go harder.

The older blond obediently listened to him and increased his effort, and the friction became sublime. He could only buck up against the Gilbert's body, craving more contact, more of _everything_. It felt perfect. He didn't want to be separated from him, never. Gilbert's kiss became deeper, tasting him so intimately, so beautifully, he couldn't even breathe properly from desire.

He was almost there, he felt it − the warmness was searing hotness now as his muscles tightened − but he hated to think that it will end soon. He wanted to continue forever like this, in Gilbert's arms, being showered with kisses again as the orgasm approached quickly. To show that he was not troubled by the presence of the attendants who were still left, though he longed for them to leave, he tightened his grip on Gilbert and breathed into his ear, intentionally, somehow knowing it would spur him on. He did not make a mistake − Gilbert increased his pace, panting through his nose, listening to how the breaths turned into low whimpers just before the blond under him came with a steal-grip on his body and it triggered his own orgasm.

Only few more feverish thrusting movements led him unerringly towards the imminent goal and pulled him into a fierce climax.

While Gilbert rode out the aftershocks of physical bliss, Ludwig let go of him and collapsed onto the mattress as the first gentle waves of afterglow made him feel faint and he leaned into the pillow, rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric languidly.  
After Gilbert lay beside him, he shrugged himself deeper into his embrace, close against his chest, and inhaled his familiar scent, everything else forgotten.

They stayed like that for an unknown length of time, just basking in the warmth of each other's body, finally alone.

**_To Be Continued..._**

**  
****NOTES:**

*** **After Bismarck made a statement in 1862 which would become notorious, "blood and iron" became a popular nickname for his policies.

**** **William I and his Generals wanted a triumphal march into Austria's capital after Prussia's triumph in the Seven Weeks' War (1866), but Bismarck insisted on generous terms of peace.

***** **"_Qu'est-ce qu'il y a_?" - "What's the matter?"

****** **The tension between France and Prussia peaked in 1870, when the Spanish Parliament offered its throne, vacant since 1868, to a member of the Catholic branch of the House of Hohenzollern, whose Protestant head was the King of Prussia. 

******* **Bonheur - happiness

**A/N: ffffffffffff- my last exam is tomorrow! Wish me luck, guys! Next chapter in January, and with a full lemon next time ohonhonhon~**

**Comments = Love**


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning for this chapter:** first time sex, the story is finished

**A/N:** **tensai_gaki** **, I hope you enjoyed your gift, darling. And I'm terribly sorry for posting it this late.**

**raecat , you're the best beta I ever had. Thank you so much for everything.**

**- Chapter 4 -**

Just when Aurora decided to reveal the new morning, Gilbert returned to their bedroom in Versailles and found Ludwig exactly where he left him.

Curled up like a sleeping child and barely covered by the heavy quilt, Ludwig was lying asleep, serenely unaware of the frisky predator that climbed onto the bed next to him.

Gilbert quietly enjoyed the view. Never before had he thought that the coldness can have its good sides, but seeing Ludwig in these warm stockings made him grow fond of winter. Fingers traveled lightly over the white stockings, tracing the curve of his calf until he reached his bent knee where he tried to slip his long fingers under the welt. The blond stirred in sleep upon sensing the tickling sensation, waking up slowly. In the meantime, Gilbert grinned mischievously and moved the other hand higher, folds of the sleepwear started slipping off the opalescent thighs.

Ludwig gave an involuntary chuckle before gently smacking his hand away.

"I wasn't aware you were ticklish…"

The younger one looked at him with something that was supposed to look like a glare but ended up resembling a drowsy look.

"Better tell me what is happening." Ludwig said and his jaw-muscles moved as he scrunched a yawn and leaned his head on the pillow again. Gilbert left the bed and got to his feet, blue eyes following him.

"The Kaiser received me with a greater show of geniality than was necessary. Rumors travel fast, you must know." He was wearing a patterned cravat and a double-breasted brown coat with a dark collar, Ludwig noticed, knee-high boots and dark breeches tucked into them.

"And?" He queried laconically as he watched Gilbert put his gloves on. The platinum-blond shrugged gave him that whimsical smile of his.

"Both Wilhelm and Bismarck practically congratulated me on nothing." Gilbert roared with laughter. "The whole palace believes we made love last night. We sure deceived them, didn't we?"

Oddly enough, he never mentioned a word about what actually happened last night. Without even knowing the reason why, it hurt the young nation. Gilbert almost sounded satisfied because they didn't make love.

"… We did." He affirmed rather despondently.

"What's wrong? I thought you would be happy. Why the long face?" The older one questioned in genuine confusion.

"I am. I am happy."

* * *

Even though the long-lasting sexual tension between them continued to simmer, Ludwig couldn't help but notice that something between them had changed.

Gilbert's nightly visits became a rare occasion. It was as though he started avoiding him, staying away from him now when he needed him and wanted him the most. There was a mysterious suspense about the whole thing and he sometimes felt a confounded pain in his chest so intense he thought he better dash to see a doctor.

He came to think that the platinum-blond avoided coming at night as a form of abstinence. A manner of silently conveying that Gilbert would wait until he felt ready to engage in intercourse. A way of protecting Ludwig from himself and his desire.

But all of this didn't help much. If anything, it only made him feel lonelier, especially in bed when he longed for Gilbert's presence. And his touches.

It was his responsibility now to inform whenever he felt ready to go further yet he was in constant confusion, reluctant to make the first step. It usually happened when they were alone that Ludwig became curiously embarrassed, his heart thumping too wildly to let him speak properly and all his plans would go awry.

But he was sure he gave him enough hints to tell that he was ready. Or at least so he thought.

He was concerned with the same subject all the time. The nights were the worst. Then he felt isolated and rejected on the large bed, and he would start touching himself at the vivid recollection of that night in Versailles, but it wasn't near enough to satisfy him. There he would lie, wide awake, staring into darkness while Gilbert was in his own room, asleep, or at least quiet. Even if he knocks, Gilbert will probably ignore him. Unlike himself, the Prussian kept his room locked.

Other difficulties diverted his attention occasionally. The political structure of the German empire had come to be dependent on Bismarck − and only Bismarck − to lead it.

The Chancellor developed the Empire's federal infrastructure. Uniform legal codes, nationalized railways, and a common bureaucracy demanded a lot of work but it helped develop Germany as a major economic power. Together with Ludwig, Bismarck struggled over Catholicism on one side and socialism on the other that threatened his authority over the Empire. ******

Even though his life was now devoid of the nightly visits, the two Germans still had their ritual silent evenings spent together in a pleasurable and relaxed atmosphere when both of them were free, when they felt cozy, wallowing in a feeling of safety and drowsiness.

But even while they would lie together, Ludwig felt that he was far from being close to his goal − making love with Gilbert and finally uniting with him.

* * *

Both enjoyed in simple banalities like eating chocolate or sitting in front of the fire at leisure. It was their own oasis of peace where the time slowed to a stop and they spent hours in pleasant silence, sprawled comfortably over a fur throw, basking in the warmth of the fireplace.

Gilbert was on his back, closer to the hot bars, Ludwig lying on his belly and leaning on an elbow with his cheek propped on the hand, reading a book. Gilbert would reach over his head from time to time to take pralines from a chocolate box that stood humbly on the carpet, but by the time he unwrapped them the chocolate candies would start to melt due to the intense warmth of the bedroom. Then he carelessly tossed the paper into the hearth before it curved under the torturing flame and the flickers of the fire reflected in the brass knobs of the grate.

Ludwig tried to peruse the content of the book while his fingers absently played with the plush fabric of the fur throw, feeling its soft and luxury texture, but it took him a whole hour to finish two pages. He switched his gaze to Gilbert's hand that was blindly searching through the box for another candy, and since it was quite easy for him to see it, he reached for the last praline with a smile and placed it into Gilbert's palm.

"Once upon a time," he said softly," I fell in love with a man just because he could eat a whole box of chocolate alone."

The older nation laughed and pulled him down into a kiss. He felt the rich, sweet flavor of chocolate on Gilbert's tongue and realized how arousing the taste was on him before they broke apart.

"I'm bored…" The platinum-blond complained after some time.

"Read with me." Ludwig suggested as he turned over a page.

"I prefer writing over reading." He flipped onto his stomach as well.

This piqued Ludwig's interest, and a question immediately appeared in his mind.

"Gilbert? I never asked you why you write journals." He felt Gilbert's hand on his back caressing him voluptuously.

"I merely wanted to preserve the buoyant and cheerful days of history and protect them from oblivion. Or else Regnitz will drift all those happy days to Main, Main into Rhine, and Rhine to who knows where, and they will never return again. Just like our youth."

Gilbert's fingers started drawing wavy lines over Ludwig's clothed back lazily and he gave a soft mewl of zest, forgetting about questions, reading and everything else. A peculiar feeling of elation engulfed him entirely as he felt the hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair, and the remnants of his interest for the book disappeared altogether. His fate was sealed after a gentle stroke on his neck so he pushed the book aside and leaned his head onto his hands, improvising a pillow, blue eyes closed in blissful contentment.

He considered his future course of action.

The moment seemed perfect, but should he really cross the Rubicon?

With sudden resolution, he decided it was now or never − the matter should be settled on the spot.

He rolled onto his back − the fur prickled his back pleasantly − and scooted over to the platinum-blond again.

"Gilbert, we are alone now…" He started slowly, insecurely, "Is there anything… that you want to do with me?"

Scarlet eyes observed him lovingly, almost innocently.

"I want to look at you for at least a thousand years. Just watch you like this forever."

"That's not enough for me." Ludwig countered quietly but with enough determination to let the other know he was serious.

"For me neither." Gilbert agreed with a sigh yet he didn't say more and the blond was forced to lead the subject to another direction. He laced their fingers together briefly and brought the older one's hand towards his body again, lower, under his white shirt.

"Gilbert… you're a man. You can take what you want…"

His fingers were cold as always, but his hand stayed limp, showing no sexual interest whatsoever.

"I've always had it easy." The Prussian started suddenly, "I conquered. I often won. But it seems like I will experience my true first defeat with you."

He withdrew his hand and the blond let him.

"Why?" Ludwig was beyond confused and revealing it openly.

"I don't know…" The older nation confessed, "I'm not sure how to handle you. I'm afraid."

"Afraid?"

He nodded.

They lay in silence, the longest silence that had ever passed between them.

"If you turn your back to me, it will be very hard." The words came out as a mere whisper when Gilbert finally spoke.

"I won't. Never. We are united by a sacred oath. The marriage of Prussia and Germany." Ludwig assured wholeheartedly with the same devotion he showed when he first swore allegiance to the older nation.

This time Gilbert did not grin. He smiled.

The unfaltering smile remained in place as their lips met again. But the kiss ended too soon for Ludwig's liking and they broke apart. He vacillated for few moments but chose to repeat his point.

"You can have me… if you want me." He managed to say after a few false starts.

"I would love that." Gilbert pecked him on the lips once. "But let us drop the matter for now."

Before he could even nod in response, the scarlet-eyed man leaned on his abdomen and settled his head there leniently as he used him as his personal pillow. In a wave of love he felt for the nation who was lying there, he threaded his fingers through the platinum-blond locks and watched how the orange glow of the fire fell on the handsome features.

"Gilbert?" He called softly, but the man was already sound asleep.

They lay on the fur throw for a long time, and when the candles finally started to sputter, Ludwig was already asleep as well.

* * *

"Prussia. Please." Bismarck waved him into the armchair, having expected his arrival.

"I am here for business purposes." The nation smirked without sitting down, causing the Chancellor to raise an eyebrow.

"How can I help you?"

"Do you remember the emollient we used after horse-riding some time ago? The substance has an exceptional soothing effect on the skin."

Bismarck nodded without a single question.

"I need it again. I was asking myself whether you could…" He trailed off.

"Of course. I cannot afford myself to fall out of your favor, can I?" With a kind smile, the man went to unlock one of his drawers to fetch the needed item while Prussia inspected the huge maps on the wall to entertain himself.

Bismarck returned not long after, handing him the desired lubricant.

"Out of curiosity," The man began while watching his nation hide the bottle in the safety of his pocket, "What do you need it for?"

"I'm going for a venery."*******Prussia flashed him a mysterious grin, and with a thankful pat on the shoulder, he disappeared.

"Isn't it too dark for a hunt?" The Chancellor remembered short after Prussia left his room.

* * *

Someone entered his bedroom, but Ludwig didn't lift his gaze. He knew it was Gilbert − he was there only half an hour ago.

Oblivious to the lack of noise, he kept his eyes on the book until the unmistakable sound of the door being locked interrupted the silence of the room.

Ludwig tore his gaze from the text after a few seconds and glanced up.

The platinum-blond stood in front of the mahogany desk with his breeches unbuttoned. Blue eyes immediately fell onto his erect member.

He swallowed first, then instinctively licked his lips before standing up promptly.

"What do you want with that?" The blond asked too breathlessly for his own taste, but he couldn't fight the excitement building up in his chest. He was putty in Gilbert's hands.

"What would you like me to do with it?" The older nation asked provocatively, scarlet eyes ablaze with lust.

Ludwig bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from the sudden urge to grin.

"Put it back where it belongs. Into your trousers."

They were setting the stage for something he awaited so eagerly and this part of foreplay worked as an effective titillation.

"Oh?" Gilbert teased as he circled the table slowly. The blond seemed ready. "I think there is another place where it belongs…"

And how ready he was.

Gilbert pulled him closer and the younger one responded with a kiss, tacitly agreeing to the love game.

The Prussian smirked at the sight of Ludwig's bed, all spick and span as usual, but he planned on changing that in the near future while he led them towards it, their clothes falling off like autumn-leaves.

Gilbert let him be in charge and allowed him to experiment for a while. He didn't regret it.

Ludwig's wet lips ghosted over Gilbert's neck, hands traveling over the strong torso he loved to explore, kissing and caressing, worshiping each scar he found on the pale skin. The older blond opened his secret bottle meanwhile, filled with liquid gold that he knew would make the penetration all the more delicious.

The young nation kissed across his jaw before licking his earlobe and breathing softly into his ear as he pressed their naked bodies together, demonstrating what he had learned at the night of the unification.

"As much as I love this position," The Prussian chuckled huskily, "I must prepare you for what is coming." Nimble hands grabbed the firm young bottom and squeezed. Ludwig leaned into the touch wantonly.

"Is this what you want?" He switched their positions.

"_Yes_." The teen almost moaned, cheeks flushed, eyes glazed over, slightly unfocused.

"_Ludwig_?" He warned, offering the last chance for retreat.

"There is no pleasure without pain…" He cupped Gilbert's cheeks and kissed him, his hands spontaneously slid down, tracing his jaw line and Adam's apple, lower onto the torso again.

Gilbert surprised him as he started working his shaft in sliding motions, introducing him to the slick, smooth, scintillating lubricant that possessed a plethora of benefits compared to the oil. They parted and Ludwig gasped for breath, wondering how Gilbert became skilled in such sexual mastery he wanted to achieve soon as well.

Sure in his experience and ability, Gilbert knew he is doing the right things as Ludwig relaxed and gave in, melted against his own body. His other hand resumed caressing the adolescent - lightly and teasingly - over the tensed muscles and soft skin of his inner thighs and the young nation released a purr, opening up completely.

He felt goose bumps on Ludwig's skin as his lips connected with his neck, nipping at the pulse − bites were for pleasure rather than assertion of power. His wandering hand slipped down, dared more, heated skin burned against his fingertips before he ran a single finger lower, asking for permission.

The blond got used to the intrusion quickly. Soon, the two slicked fingers weren't a problem either, going in and out smoothly and he started to enjoy − less in the preparation, more in other touches that stimulated him and kept him hard. Gilbert's palm pressed against his skin, massaging him soothingly, then skimming along the delicate skin of his thigh, varying between the passionate and light touches and kisses.

Gilbert thrust his fingers deeper in a spark of impatience, receiving a small sigh in return and he bit his lip. He could do better than that.

Scissoring his fingers carefully, he added another one and stretched him until the blond let a noise of discomfort pass his lips. He pressed a deft kiss below his navel in apology, taking his mind off the pain. Ludwig slid his hands into the platinum-blond locks and tugged cautiously.

"Enough…"

The older one obediently complied.

It was almost time.

Gilbert's thick shaft was glistening with lube, he was positioned and ready. They shared a look and he began moving then, slow as a tortoise. A strangled gasp caught in Ludwig's throat as Gilbert filled him, instinctively writhing in an attempt to pull away from the painful sensation. The blond pressed a palm against the pale chest, stealing time.

"Relax…" Gilbert advised, albeit breathily, "I'm not going to move until you're ready."

It hurt.

The younger German sank his teeth into his bottom lip, trying his best to keep all the moans in.

"Does it hurt too much?" The Prussian asked helplessly.

Ludwig didn't want to say yes. But he couldn't say no either.

What to do? _What to do_?

He agreed to this, he wanted this. He couldn't stop _now_.

Gilbert's second attempt wasn't successful either.

It hurt as he went in, the blond tensed in protest at the burning pain as he was stretched, and soon he couldn't fight anymore, the feeling was unbearable. He let out a sudden cry, a broken version of Gilbert's name and the nation above almost winced, immediately stopping for few moments. But the warmness proved too tempting and he slid inside entirely, Ludwig's arms wrapped around his torso tightly.

"G… Gilbert? Is it over yet…?" He panted through throes of pain and the older nation couldn't get over the tingling pain of his failure as a lover.

"No… I mean— Yes, I'm inside, but it isn't over yet…" Now he didn't even know if he could finish his task. He felt trapped.

He started out with cautious movements, tantalizingly slow while the blond still fought against the unusually painful feeling. Gilbert kept the pace for at least few minutes like that, but he didn't see any results on Ludwig who lay there motionlessly, member softening, and guiltiness tortured him because his own body enjoyed.

A drop of sweat trickled down his temple as he watched the teen, unwavering expression of concentration on Ludwig's face as he continued to drive into him and he knew that the blond was trying to reach his orgasm but couldn't.

His pace lost on speed gradually and he started to think frantically. Wasn't there anything to make the experience more pleasurable for Ludwig? Or at least painless? The younger nation wasn't complaining and he couldn't help thinking that he was enduring the pain only because of him. Though he felt flattered, he was ashamed at the same time.

He knew he will have to insist on anal intercourse until the pain disappears, but for now he will have to find another way to trick Ludwig's body. The Prussian then remembered something. His hands closed around the blonde's upper thighs, just below his crotch, and he pulled along that erogenous zone with his thumbs. Tracing out slow lines along the smooth skin of his perineum seemed to belittle his pain.

Gilbert reached for a smaller pillow above Ludwig's head and lifted him as he slipped the soft cushion under his back, leaving the blond confused for a second.

With an energetic sigh, Gilbert changed his angle of thrusts experimentally and his caprice proved to be more than successful.

"Ah! What— Ah!" Ludwig grabbed his wrists, eyes widened in shock. Again, Gilbert rammed his sword deep into the blond in a series of thrusts, directly massaging his prostate and Ludwig gasped, losing focus from the sheer pleasure assaulting his senses.

Setting a steady pace and taking advantage of the blonde's erogenous zone had its effects—Gilbert watched how the blonde's shaft hardened again, leaking with pre-come, head falling onto the pillows again as Ludwig released him, muscles tightening around the abdomen area as he experienced a pleasurable wave of tingling sensations in all parts of his body, chest heaving.

Gilbert was more than pleased with the changes, thankful that the younger nation got accustomed to the penetration. His speed was steadily growing now.

Scarlet eyes followed every change in expression as he developed a voracious appetite for Ludwig's sighs, hungry for his cries of pleasure.

"_Faster, please faster_…" Ludwig begged in hearty enjoyment, fingers flexing into the soft fabric of the quilt.

Gilbert bit back a groan as he savored in the superb view.

He managed to enhance the blonde's sexual satisfaction by dint of technique only, and the thought alone engulfed him with pleasure. The sight of his partner's enjoyment mirroring his own as a result of his skill and ability reflected his Narcissus-like tendencies. Yet the strongest effect on him was the idea that he was making love to Germany, their bodies finally connected. Ludwig darted up to wrap his arms around the older one's neck and kissed him soundly, their kisses changed to being more aggressive, their bodies pressed together to the point where Gilbert couldn't reach any deeper. The former knight continued to roll his hips into the blond until his movements became almost frantic but Ludwig's delight reached its sweetest climax before him and he followed quickly, swallowing the blonde's moan.

He rode out his orgasm slowly while Ludwig panted softly, completely spent and exhausted.

He lay there, catching his breath for a good minute while Gilbert fetched a cloth, cleaning them up in lazy strokes.

"Once you're older," He began as he brushed along the blonde's inner thigh, "maybe I will let you top too." He grinned but his words sounded sincere. Ludwig smiled at the thought of an egalitarian relationship, and after the Prussian laid himself down onto his side he titled his chin up to reach his lips. Gilbert brought his hand up and kept it entangled in the blond hair, changing the angle of the kiss, his other arm draped tiredly around the younger nation.

Gilbert pulled at the blankets to cover them as their bodies started to cool down and Ludwig rested his head against the platinum-blonde's chest, a tiny smile adored his features until Morpheus lulled him into a soft slumber.** ******

**- The End -**

**(Boring) Notes:**

*** Aurora** - in Roman mythology, the goddess of the dawn  
**** **"**Kulturkampf **(literally, 'culture struggle') - refers to German policies in relation to secularity and the influence of the Roman Catholic Church."  
***** note the ambiguity - venery:** 1. hunting 2. pursuit of sexual pleasure  
****** Morpheus** - in classical mythology, the god of dreams and sleep

**A/N: That's it. This is the end. Thank you for the comments and for reading, and if you enjoyed in the story half as much as I did in writing then it's good. I'm glad I finished this but also sorry for making you wait for the last part. Love ya all, fellow Germancest shippers!**


	5. AN

**Author's Note:** **(This is for a particular person, I hope she will see it)** Since your review was anonymous with only the title 'akwilasin163 .com' in it, I wasn't sure how to find you. I sent a message to a mail address I hope is yours, if not, then I hope you'll see my answer here.

I have nothing against your translating this story into Chinese, in fact - I am very flattered. Though I'd like to see the translation and where you will post it, simply out of curiosity. Anyway, you have my consent - I hope to read you answer soon.


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